Hues of the Heart
by sileavatar
Summary: Even as a married couple, Kenshin and Kaoru relate to each other with a complex range of emotions that they don't necessarily convey. A companion to "All His Colors," intended to be a series of one-shots that more deeply examines what was happening inside the characters during various scenes.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN** : I've been inspired by Mamoro's excellent stories in "Ache" to write stories that explore little scenes with much more depth of emotion. Of course, I have so much to learn from such masters, but I consider this a good exercise to develop my own writing._

 _This scene complements **Chapter 6 (The Color Red)** of my other fic, " **All His Colors** ," so if you wanted to read that and don't want spoilers on the plot point, stop right now, turn back, and read that first!_

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Amber eyes scanned over her unconscious bare form. His own gi that had protected her modesty splayed open underneath her now, allowing the bright lighting of the bath house to reveal unsettling colors tinting her body that made his breath catch with a choking lump and knotted his eyebrows in hard angles of furious, devastated concern. There were three cuts leaking thick crimson on her arms and two on her sides, thankfully only millimeters deep and sparing the need for stitches, but the large gash on her forehead would need assistance. A circle of torn skin around her left ankle spoke of the familiar friction from a chain. The most pressing matter was the festering lump on the left side of the back of her head, just a few inches below the swirl of her hair, which let out a steady trickle of edematous pink plasma from an already roaring inflammation. There were bruises on her face, neck, arms, and legs, with one particularly large dark purple spot covering half of her right arm between the deltoid and elbow. The smear of dirt and dust besmirching her fair skin did not help the already looming threat of infections. Worst of all, there was no way of knowing how many of these insults she had endured while rendered stark naked against her will, in front of sick men who gleefully made their abhorrent intent known.

He'd let his wife suffer all this.

No, he couldn't allow his eyes to fog up with angry tears now. He couldn't let escape the quaking sobs that would overwhelm his chest and squeeze his windpipe shut. He couldn't let his hands remain uselessly clenched on nothing at his sides. He must clean and dress her wounds. Immediately.

With numb resolve, the ex-hitokiri scooped up warm water from the bath into a small wooden pail and splashed some on his forearm and hands before grabbing a bar of soap to quickly scrub away the crusted blood covering them. He deemed his palms clean enough to tend to his wife only after three washes. Slowly, he slid one arm below her neck and the other under her knees to lift her up from the bench of the dressing area. Despite the battering she had suffered, her form felt strong in his arms, lean muscles still taut from the fierce battle that she had refused to cower from. The warmth of her skin pressing on his bare chest reminded him of the many pleasurable nights they had shared since their wedding, except the circumstances leading up to this moment had been nothing short of a nightmare. He clutched her briefly to his stricken heart, bringing his nose to hers while closing his eyes, letting out a strained sigh. He stepped forth and carried her beyond the partition screens.

Gently he laid his wife down on the raised wooden planks beside the tub, setting a folded towel under her head which he angled to ensure minimal stress on the swollen lump, before pouring waves of warm water over her entire body. He made sure the stream did not directly hit but rather cascaded over the torn parts of her flesh. First he had to attend to the wound on her head. After proper rinsing, he felt the bump with his fingers, assessing the extent of damage. The discrete concavities left behind were the hallmarks of a force directed from a blunt hard object, likely a brass knuckle, clearly with direct connection to the gash on her forehead and accompanying bruises on her brow. Thank the gods he'd arrived just in time before the wretched thugs desecrated her, but if only he had been there earlier to catch her fall before her face struck the ground. If only he had accompanied her to walk back from the Maekawa dojo that day. _If only, if only…_ He gritted his teeth and fought back the lump in his throat a second time.

Grabbing her favorite rose-tinted soap bar, he worked up a lather and massaged small circular patterns on the injured scalp, subsequently attending to the tear on her forehead with equally loving devotion. He rinsed off the grime from her wounds before turning his attention to the uninjured areas. While soaping up the rest of her hair, he took his time to soothingly knead her temples, bringing the strokes from the side of her head to the back, then upwards from her nape to the top. His thumb gently loosed the dirt stains around her brows and over her cheek, massaging away the bruises that marred her face. Several pours from his pail chased the bubbles away, carrying with them the matted mess of blood and dust and sweat. Soon his fingers could once again be threaded through the whole length of her silky smooth jet-black strands. How he loved that feeling on his hands.

Setting her head slowly back down on the now-soaked towel, his eyes looked to the rest of her body. As subtle and as sure as it came, heartache seeped in like frost wrapping deep into his bones as he surveyed the broken skin and damages across her porcelain body. The wounds he so often endured seemed abhorrently out of place on his beloved and he couldn't wait to see her restored to spirited health. With careful strokes, he scrubbed away the grime from every inch of her skin, paying special attention to how much pressure and shear his fingers bore down on her wounds. With each trickle of cleansing warmth, the beauty that had always intoxicated him began to show forth once more, and his hands cherished the warm softness of her bare form.

"Mmmhh…" Kaoru stirred, turning her head almost to an angle that would aggravate her wound, which he promptly stopped by putting his palm against the side of her face. Her eyelids cracked open to reveal bleary eyes that still shone a deep ocean blue. He wanted to stroke her cheek with his thumb and kiss the unbroken skin of her lips, to tell her that everything would be alright, but the sudden rush of guilt that seized his heart prompted his gaze to return to the task at hand. He could feel her dazed eyes on his face as she kept her body obediently unmoving, while he continued to clean the wounds on her sides. When she winced slightly, he winced in turn for her sake, temporarily pausing his motions as he looked at her apologetically. A weak smile graced her features even as her eyes narrowed with the pain, her hand squeezing his forearm in reassurance, and he could not discern the feelings of his heart that ran amok with the fury of what the bastards had done to his wife while at the same time breathlessly captivated by her allure even in this state.

She nodded to urge him to continue, and he obliged. His fingers worked even more carefully to cleanse the cut on her abdomen. His hands trailed down her waist to her hips, and he couldn't help but take in the gentle gradients of her curves, kicking his system automatically to a state of arousal as he beheld the quiet comeliness of his wife, wounds and all. His throat went dry and he gulped, rather loudly. How he wished to hear her hum against his skin as they held each other, bodies rocking together in the heat of passion. But no - how could he even _bear_ to think of such things at this time? A frown creased his brows and he shook his head, disgusted by himself, as he promptly returned to the task of cleansing, wishing to dispel the vulgar taint of the previous incident with renewed determination. In that narrow focus, he missed the light pink dusting Kaoru's cheeks and the small curving of her lips. A few tender strokes later, he noticed her breaths slowing once again as her consciousness lapsed.

When he had finished scrubbing the rest of her wounds, he gathered her up and lifted her into the tub, letting the warmth of the water soak into her skin. He positioned one arm under her neck to cushion her bump from the hard edges of the tub. Her head rolled towards the nook of his shoulder and the scent of jasmine from her hair filled his senses, reminding him of the close intimacy they had recently shared together in the quiet of the night. In spite of himself, he lowered his face to the top of her head, taking in a lungful of her sweet smell. She stirred once more, giving off a soft sound of pleasure which only roused his desires further, prompting him to turn his reddening face away from the sight of her naked form. But he held himself steady, even as he had to run his hands down her bosom and over her thighs to clean them, resisting from indulging in unnecessary strokes over those supple flesh mounds. He couldn't continue much longer without feeling like he was taking advantage of his own wife, and after the bloodbath he had wreaked among the thugs and what she had endured in their company he could not impose himself on her without feeling sick in his stomach. Holding his breath, he finished bathing her as quickly as he could before the water eased from tepid to cold.

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With heavy-lidded eyes, Kaoru took in the dim shapes coalescing before her, hazy colors of amber and maroon standing out among the greys and dark browns that showed themselves through the glow of a small lantern. The skin of her back felt comfortably braced against a fluffy softness while her chest enjoyed the right amount of warmth under a thin fabric, but there was a sharp pinching pressure on her left arm. Between the pounding in her head and throbbing echoes coming from multiple areas of her body, it took a few moments for her to realize that her husband was bandaging one of her cuts. The warring state of emotions written all over his face hadn't changed from when she had stirred awake moments ago at the bath house. _Kenshin..._ Her heart instantly went out to him, wanting to soothe away the multitude of pain, guilt, and anger that no doubt plagued his soul, but she found all the energy drained away from every inch of her aching muscles, and her mouth would not work to form words. So she just laid there, wafting unspoken sentiments of love towards him as he dressed her wounds.

He turned his head, noticing her wakefulness, and worry shifted to predominate the gaze of his amber eyes. He leaned stiffly towards her but then stopped, seemingly squelching a desire to do something. The anguish and sorrow that flashed in his eyes brought stinging tears to her own, and in horror he mistook that to mean that he wasn't handling her injuries carefully enough, so in panic he turned his attention back to loosen the wrappings. She wanted so badly to pull him close and tell him _no, that's not it,_ that he's not hurting her, but her frustration only manifested an even more pained expression on her face, inadvertently casting a deeper shadow of guilt over his heart. She huffed and shut her eyes tight, surrendering in helplessness as some of her tears leaked out, knowing there was nothing she could do now but to calm herself down and let him continue working without adding to his torture.

Minutes turned to hours as her husband systematically turned his attention to every scrape, bruise, and tear on her midsection and legs, either applying ointment and dressings to each or working a gentle massage to push away the purple clots, careful to uncover only the areas of her body that he was tending to. Secretly, Kaoru was relieved to feel only his touch and his alone at this moment out of any other man in the world, with or without proper medical training, while at the same time deeply moved by the reverence that he never failed to show even after they've been married for months and had bared their nakedness to each other. Warmed by this thought, she risked another glance at him. His eyes rose to meet hers again, and widened slightly when he saw a warm smile brightening her lips this time. She held his gaze momentarily, wishing he could read her heart. Their gentle breaths filled the silence. He blinked those stunning golden eyes and swallowed lightly before turning away to resume dressing her wounds. She let out a small sigh. It wasn't much, but at least his anguish seemed to have abated now.

Once he had finished, Kaoru felt his strong arms sliding under her and wrapping over her frame, before she was hoisted up from the towels and lowered onto the sleeping yukata that he had laid out on the futon. He threaded her arms carefully through the sleeves, and wrapped the fresh clean fabric closed over her. She felt her strength returning slightly, and just as he was about to pull away she commanded the muscles of her arms to move and weakly grab on his shoulders. He seemed taken aback but did not flinch. She moved her arms up until they closed around his neck, and pressed her head against his bare chest, ignoring the dried blood splatters that still lingered there. "Kaoru…?"

He was frozen stiff, but while he was still unsure of her act she was absolutely certain of her embrace. She slurred his name, and her fingers softly stroked his nape. He searched her eyes in disbelief, still expecting the ex-hitokiri Battousai to be worthy of only fear and repulsion despite everything that had passed between them, but even with partially closed eyes her expression was unmistakably tender, and her smile strained but genuine nonetheless. It was all that she could manage. Her strength slipped away and so did the hold of her arms as her vision turned dark once more, but the warmth of her husband enveloping her escorted her fall out of consciousness like the fluttering of a thousand doves sailing through the sky.

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 _ **AN** : So that's my first experiment with more emotive writing. Let me know what you think, and if I should explore more scenes of "All His Colors" (or other new ideas) in this way. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN** : Thanks dear readers, I'm glad you're enjoying these pieces! This little scene is taken from Chapter 4 of "All His Colors"_

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The crescent was falling.

Tingling sensations that had overtaken her legs, crawling up like a multitude of ants from the tips of her toes to the back of her knees, were fading away. Perhaps her limbs had fallen so deeply asleep she no longer felt them. Perhaps she herself was dissipating away from the waking world. She didn't know anymore. She just kept herself still. _Maybe in the next hour…_

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The stars were fading.

Slight movements of the air brought a chill to drying tracks left on her cheeks. There were no footsteps to be heard beyond the perimeter, no breaths except her own in this vast dojo estate. She should cover herself with a blanket before catching a cold, but her body would not move. _Maybe in the next hour…_

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Warm and cool tones were invading the sky's periphery.

She leaned heavily onto the solid wood of the porch pillar, a favorite spot of her husband's. The sand-smoothed grains pressing against her temples brought none of their familiar comfort. Her cerulean eyes stared blankly at the washtub sitting at the center of their compound. He would've been bent over it by now, sleeves tied back neatly, greeting the glory of dawn with sheets and suds. But the tub was empty, and their bedding was an uncollected mess on the floor.

 _Maybe in the next hour…_

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Puffs of white rolled against a backdrop of clear blue. The heat of day had peaked.

She stared at the dojo gate that stood silently unmoving. While the sunlight had turned blinding, no illumination reached inside of her, gulped away by the cavern at the center of her chest. _How long had she been waiting?_

A sob pushed its way out, failing to bring any more wetness to her eyes. It stung, still. Her mind couldn't stop thinking about his words. Couldn't stop seeing those haunted, pained golden eyes of his. She, the second wife, failing to live up to his first.

 _Tomoe… she would never be Tomoe…_

Her head dug onto the grains of the wood as it listed downwards, fist balling up on trembling thighs that had sat kneeling for hours on end. New waves of sobs rocked her body. She brought her arms around herself. _No more tears_ … _no more_ … she was done shedding them.

A part of her wanted to scream at him. His ever-mysterious unspoken thoughts. How he had disappeared, yet again, leaving broken puzzle pieces at her feet without any semblance of a clue as to how to put it all back together. Yes, she wasn't Tomoe, and _to hell with that_. If he'd wanted his dead wife back even after all this time, after he himself had asked her to marry him, she'd have no part of this mess. She should've just walked away.

 _How could he have said that… How could he?_

Her palms covered her forehead and eyes. Her head shook from side to side, flinging droplets from her lashes. _No… no. There must be more to this._

Something had triggered the second awakening of his amber eyes, the cutting words of his outburst, she was sure of it. Though she never liked to pry, she wouldn't hold anything back this time. She would get her answers.

Kaoru closed her eyes, loosening the jaw muscles that gnashed her teeth together, forcibly breathing the breath she was holding. Her bones were beyond exhausted but she couldn't fall apart yet. He might come back - he always came back - and he would need her. She wouldn't push him away. She would never. Gulping in gasps of air now, she brought her arms tighter around herself.

 _Maybe in the next hour…_

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The creaking of wood brought her head snapping up. A pale, slightly trembling hand pushed the gate slightly ajar. Her heart pounded. At the emerging sight of tousled auburn hair interlaced with bamboo leaves, her arms loosened and the pressure on her chest lifted. The hunched man stepped inside and raised his head to lift the shadows of his bangs away from his violet eyes. Those beautiful eyes, now gaunt and hollowed-out, pierced with the pain she never wanted to see reflected there again.

Kaoru's breath caught.

Her husband hesitated at the door, gaze locked with hers. She stayed put, using what little strength remained to raise her arms outstretched at her sides. The full blossom of a smile that she directed at him ignored all traces of her lingering tears. Her mouth moved to say _welcome home_.

Kenshin stood for just a second more before stumbling towards her as fast as a maimed soldier could go, knees buckling to the ground before the raised platform of their porch, arms reaching for her shoulders. She caught his face before he could say _I'm sorry,_ pressed her forehead to his, and shushed him. His eyes were still wide and lost when her lips touched his temples. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, burying his head in her chest. In reciprocal, his hands slid down and around the small of her back, closing with aching tension, fingers digging into the fabric of her yukata. The musty smell of earth and forest that clung to him filled the large intake of breath she took in, and his warmth felt _so_ _right_ back in her embrace.

Yes, she needed answers. But for now… it could wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN_** _: this is a continuation of the last scene, also from_ _from **Chapter 4** of **"All His Colors"**_ _\- essentially part 2 out of 3._

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"…suuu….. oii…! …na be late! …hear… me?! Hey, BUSU!"

The pounding on the gate matched the ferocity of what assaulted her temples, and Kaoru roused with a groan, hand clutching her forehead.

"Oi! BUSU, COME ON, did you forget?!"

Ugh…what…? What time is it?

"HEY, COME OUT, WE GOTTA GO!"

Yahiko. Right. The training session with the Norimatsu boys was today. Barely three hours must've passed after Kenshin limped home and they both crashed into bed. Sliding back the shoji door, the shihandai stumbled out haphazardly, shielding her bleary eyes from the afternoon light that felt unbearably harsh. When the pounding continued she called out with a voice that croaked with more hoarseness than she expected. "Okay, okay, I hear you - I'm coming, hang on!"

The banging finally ceased and Kaoru's aching head shot high praises to the heavens. Unlatching the wooden bolt, she pushed the gate open to find her star pupil pacing around and huffing with arms folded across his chest.

"Geez – finally! You said you'd bring me along today so I can spar – "

He stopped when he caught a glimpse of her, chocolate eyes widening.

"Whoa. I didn't think it's possible... but you look even uglier today than usual."

The wind rustled some trees, and the soft lapping of the river could be heard in the background.

Kaoru had no doubt the meager interrupted bouts of sleep and the buckets of tears she spilled had left dark craters under her eyes along with other unflattering marks, but even so, by now a bokken should've materialized in her hand to whap the boy senseless. Her silence hung a second too long and his face began to pale. Cursing inwardly, she swiftly corrected the mistake with a solid punch to his head, but what connected was pathetic and they both knew it. He rubbed his temple, one eye still trained on her, and she looked away, hoping the expression on her face resembled something more akin to irritation than heartbreak.

"You're the worst," she sniffed. "I came down with a massive cold from the late night yesterday and passed it on to Kenshin, so we both need some rest. I'm sorry Yahiko, but can you please tell the Norimatsus that we have to reschedule?" Kaoru fought the twitch building on her lip as she spoke.

Her protégé's eyes narrowed as he studied her, clearly not buying it. When the wind blew again, it seemed to seep right under her skin and a sneeze sprung from her lungs. She clutched her suddenly shivering arms, before sneezing again. At least now she was only partially lying.

Yahiko rolled his eyes and heaved out an exasperated sigh. "'Kay, fine, I'll tell them. You better recover quickly and don't go dyin' on me too early, ya hear?"

Kaoru didn't fail to notice the split-second grimace and clenching of his fist before he turned around, the bad joke having no doubt triggered his memory of a certain traumatic event. Her heart tugged. She caught his arm.

"Hey – look at me," she said, prompting him to turn his head. "I'm not going down that easily."

Her ocean eyes bore a determined stare into his. She'd meant every word and didn't let go of his arm until she was convinced he'd felt it. Yahiko nodded, frowning as he swallowed his lump, and looked away as if in shame for displaying even a shred of concern. "Good, you better not! You owe me one. And… y'know, just holler if you need food from Tae or somethin'..."

The little swordsman scratched the back of his head and marched off quickly before his lips could spout other mushy nonsense. Kaoru straightened up and brought a hand to clutch at her collar, lips curving up slightly. For all his macho pretenses, she knew her practically-adopted-little-brother was a good kid. "I will. Thanks, Yahiko," she called out softly to his retreating back.

Once he was out of sight, every nerve and muscle of her body screamed to regain her attention. A nasty throb still plagued her head and the weight of twenty sacks of rice seemed to settle on her limbs and back. She wasn't sure how long she could keep up this ruse, but she'd give it her best shot since she absolutely wouldn't drag Yahiko down into -whatever this was - that was going on between her and Kenshin.

 _Speaking of which…_

The raven-haired woman closed the gate and shuffled back inside, wiping her nose. Taking small steps, she curled her fingers around the frame of the shoji door that was left ajar, peering into the room she'd shared with her spouse for the past three months. There he was, still lying on his back, snoring lightly, chest rising and falling under his half of the blanket with loose flaming locks splayed in a mess underneath. Dirt stains and bits of crushed leaves clung to the clothing he didn't bother to discard before collapsing onto the futon.

Kaoru's face fell and she sank slowly to the ground at the doorway, fingers wringing together on her lap. The chill under her skin didn't bother her now that there was a lump in her throat and frost closing around her heart. Typically, the mere approach of Yahiko's _ki_ , much less the ruckus he'd shouted and pounded, would've instantly roused her husband and brought a small smile to play underneath his gentle violet eyes. And while she was never quite as attuned to others' energies as he was, the closeness they'd shared after marriage had made it easier for her to recognize the warm aura he exuded. But now, all she felt coming from him was a gaping miasma.

He looked so frail. His cheeks were gaunt and the skin on his flesh a sickly pallor. There were only two other instances when she'd seen him like this: in the aftermath of fighting Shishio and Enishi that had left him hanging on to the thin rope of life. Except this time… what reduced him to this form… was _her_?

Kaoru brought a trembling hand to cover her mouth, lids shutting out tears that threatened to form yet again on the edge of her lashes, heart pounding. She gripped her collars tighter. She wanted nothing more than to kneel by his side to wipe off his sweat with a cool cloth and stroke his cheek tenderly, but her body wouldn't move because at this point, _does he even want her?_ Where does she begin to sort this out? How was she to mend something when she couldn't even discern what exactly was broken?

 _Get a grip, Kaoru!_ Her palms came up to slap her cheeks, breath seething between clenched teeth. Really, what good would it do to crumple down for another miserable second? The shihandai exhaled a large puff and knotted her brows together. She had to take care of herself first. A nice hot bath would burn away her cold, and with luck, also dispel the heavy fog settling into her mind.

Closing the shoji door gently, she headed over to the wood pile stacked behind the bath house. She'd need flint stones to start the fire, and - _where are they kept, again?_ After searching around the area and rummaging through the storage shed, she found them tucked neatly underneath the porch slats adjacent to the pile. Of course. Grabbing a couple of split logs, she crouched down in front of the opening on the wall and stacked a small bonfire. Then she brought the stones crashing together, drawing sparks. It took some time before the wood caught aflame, and as she blew on the growing embers a wrenching feeling twisted in her stomach.

 _When was the last time she'd had to fire up her own bath?_

Certainly, it had been at least three months. Stretching all the way back to the day her red-haired rurouni arrived at the dojo, not accounting for the times his injuries put him out of commission or when enemies engaged him in drawn-out combat, she could probably count on her fingers the number of times she'd done this chore for herself. Her faithful companion had cheerfully taken it on, day in and day out.

The flame crackled, dancing as she stoked the hot embers, and in the blazing flares she saw the phantom of his amber eyes.

He had seemed so terrified, exasperated, and pained, as he looked right at her _._ Why was he so desperate to push her away? And why would he bring up his first love?

 _What if…?_

A sharp, stabbing pain drove through her chest, and she forgot how to breathe.

 _What if_ d _eep-down, he regrets marrying me…?_

She bit her lip, vision blurring with liquid.

With a cry she flung the flint stones away and they bounced hard on the ground before hitting the wall of the gate. Clenching her teeth, she brought her hands to the sides of her head, shaking it to try and dispel the negative spiral of thoughts. _Stop it, stop it!_ Her hands raked a trail from her temples to her jaw. _Get a grip, Kaoru. Calm down._ She rubbed up and down her arms, ripping her glare away from the fire, breathing in, breathing out.

Shutting herself in the bath house, Kaoru quickly undressed, tied her hair up with a towel, and dipped her toes into the water. The heat was a tad too much for her liking, but she resolutely plunged in the rest of her feet. When she lowered herself down to the pool of warmth, her eyes squeezed shut as she stretched her body out, letting her aching bones unload some of their burdens. She leaned her head back on the rim and focused her attention on the steam wafting over her face. The chatter between her ears still buzzed to a deafening degree.

Sucking in a deep breath, she dunked her head below the water in one swift motion. There, with nothing left to do but to count the seconds before her lungs burned for air, she was free. It was a habit she'd developed as a young child whenever the world seemed to be spinning out of control. She did it when she'd been humiliatingly bested in her first sparring match. She did it when she'd learned her father would never again come home. She did it when her a vengeful former student had besmirched the name of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu by rampaging the streets, spilling blood, pretending to be…

 _Oh, for cryin' out loud - Mou!_

Kaoru's head burst out of the water as she gulped in large intakes of breath, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the tub. Reflexively her head turned towards the door, and, still heaving, she couldn't help but stare at it in a mixture of hope and longing.

He had barged in on that day, amethyst eyes full of worry as he tried to stop what he'd thought was a suicide by drowning, before the sight of her and the dawning of his mistake spread a flush of red over his face. Not realizing the depths of his pure intentions then, she had punished him by locking him away in the storage shed, but his only retort was that of words filled with kindness and empathy. _"I'm sure what your father wished for was your happiness, that I do,"_ he'd murmured, gentle eyes curving up to a smile. _Her_ happiness. _After_ she'd called Hitokiri Battousai a bloodthirsty murderer to his face.

Her chest ached.

This was the man she had vowed to spend the rest of her life with. The same one who'd made an equally solemn promise of never leaving her side again.

She closed her eyes and built up a resolution.

No matter what enigmatic battle raged within his heart, Kenshin had come home today, taking up the invitation of her outstretched arms that his amber-eyed consciousness refused in the night. And in his eyes… the _hollow, lost, pained look_ in those amethyst eyes _…_

Kaoru splashed warm water over her face, keeping her palms up for a second. When she lowered her hands, a new spark glimmered in the twin sapphire orbs.

* * *

Hours later, when Kenshin stirred in the dead of night, all he felt were soft hands on his cheek and the coolness of the cloth dabbing away sweat from his forehead.

"Did you sleep well, Kenshin?"

Cracking open his vision, he beheld nothing but the sweet smile of ocean blues.

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 _ **P.S.** : Kenshin's line quoted in italics was taken directly from Episode 1 of the anime. Also, I should mention that when I saw none-other-than Mamoro herself had reviewed these pieces, I nearly died of happiness._


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